


Family. Duty. Honour

by QueenJonrya



Series: Jonrya Drabbles [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brooding, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 14:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenJonrya/pseuds/QueenJonrya
Summary: A conversation on the meaning of honour.





	Family. Duty. Honour

The water in the bathhouse was toasty, the heat penetrated his skin and warmed his cold bones. The blood from the battle floated off him and tinted the blue waters with red. _Fire and blood_ he thought, _the destruction my ancestors brought and championed_.

Was there honour in the world? He thought of how he fought almost everyday, it irked him, how his intentions may not have been most pure. Would he have fought half as hard as he did if not for her? Would he mount his steed and do the right thing regardless? His fath- his uncle taught him to be honourable, he taught him how to hold a blade and determine right from wrong. Despite that, he betrayed his vows, took part in the politics of the realm, and then he broke his vows again. Betrayals all made in the name of love, betrayals all made to protect his heart. 

“Jon” and by the gods was his heart’s voice sweet. 

“Arya” he lifted his head up and turned around. She no longer wore her ceremonial armour but rather the unusual braavosi smallclothes she oft had under her tunics and gowns, two pieces of silk held together with straps and tiny hooks covered her breasts and a knee length skirt made of the thinnest white material covered her legs.

She walked towards him with strong strides, stopping briefly to hitch up and tuck in her underskirt so it stoped at her mid thighs before sitting behind him on the marble floor. Her muscled legs dipped into the warm water on either side of him and his head was positioned between her knees. Picking up the forgotten wooden bowl on the floor she filled it with water and slowly poured it over his head. One hand regulated the flow of the water, while the other massaged his curls, running against his scalp, releasing tension he did not know his body held. A smile sat upon his lips, how could he not be happy in the presence of his love? 

“What is on your mind?” she placed the bowl down and lathered lavender soap through his hair drawing deep sighs from him.

“Do you think us dishonourable? After everything we’ve done to survive, is it possible that we no longer have a shred of honourable dignity within us? With all the vows we’ve broken” he turned around looking gazing into her eyes as she washed away the lather in his hair. She sighed deeply before she began to talk. 

“We had honourable intentions, all of us did. Blood was spilt, we lied, and broke promises but not all of us can be as honourable as father. But we try to be and that means something”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I think my uncle would be disappointed in me. I’m not the man he raised anymore. I’m half wilding, half wolf beast, and a liar as well”

“ _Our father_ would be proud, believe me. If you had the chance would you do things differently? Would you have not betrayed her?”

“No. I would betray them all” her eyes were warm and he hoped she knew, that he would slit the throat of every man, woman, and child in all seven kingdoms to keep her safe. He would not betray her for anyone no matter the price.

“Nor would I. I’ve come to peace with my place in everything that has happened. Father…he once told me that there is honour in the lies we tell to save lives. The purest of Starks said those very words to me. Besides, you know the words of my mother’s house”

“Family. Duty. Honour”

“Aye, when winter comes our love for our family, our duty to our family, and our loyalty to our family comes before any shred of honour we hold. You are my family”. Her wet hands were cupping his cheeks one thumb tracing his cheekbone, the other his eyebrow. Only Arya could recite the Tully words, the mantra of a woman who hated him and make it feel like it was his own. Reaching up he grabbed onto her waist and pulled her down to join him in the water, she smelled like wildflowers, wolf fur and home. Their lips met, her fingers tangled in his hair and she dragged him closer. Grey eyes met grey and everything seemed to fit into perspective. He let his need over take him, plunging into the inviting warmth of want and suckling her skin, marking her with his tongue and lips as she marked him with her claws. She whimpered and drew the prayer of her name from his lips. He cradled her to his chest, her legs no longer tightly wrapped around him.

Resting his head atop hers he quietly whispered, “Family. Duty. Honour” her melodic chuckle chased away any doubts he had about honour and his possession of it, for what was honour in comparison to her love. 

**Author's Note:**

> So House words, which are your favourite and least favourite?  
> I like ‘winter is coming’, ‘ours is the fury’ the most followed by, ‘family, duty, honour’, and ‘as high as honour’ (funny considering this is literally the core Baratheon Alliance)   
> My least favourite is probably ‘Here me roar’ it makes the Lannisters sound like a cheerleading squad from a teen movie, I prefer their unofficial words it has a certain zeal to it. I also don’t hold much appreciation for ‘Fire and Blood’ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯.   
> -Queen Jonrya


End file.
